The other day Suzanne dressed all in Sister's clothes and put her baby doll in a sling and became a big girl/Mommy. Being a Mommy is a huge responsibility, maybe too much for a three-year-old to take on; after all, she left her baby at Grandma's and didn't even notice.
Suzanne is definitely feeling the pain of being the little sister. She often points out to Mom and Dad how unfair things are: it's unfair that Elizabeth got a Pokemon deck and she didn't; it's unfair that Elizabeth gets to go to a seemingly infinite number of birthday parties; it's unfair that Elizabeth had a birthday very recently, when Suzanne's birthday was way back in December, which might as well have been never.
And it is observably not easy for Suzanne. Tonight, Elizabeth and I went shopping for birthday gifts (there are two parties -- or is it three? -- this weekend alone). Suzanne stayed home to enjoy the rare opportunity to build Ponyville by herself. As soon as Elizabeth and I got back, she (Elizabeth) said two things:
1) "It's beautiful, Suzanne!" followed by,
2) "That bed is in the wrong place!"
Often in these situations, Elizabeth will harass or whine/cry until Suzanne just yields. "Okay, Sister," she'll say, "I'll put the bed where you want it." And Elizabeth will be happy. Until fifteen minutes later when Suzanne out of the blue pokes her or pulls her hair or steals her toy, all the while grinning like the Joker.
And poor Elizabeth will wonder, "Where did that come from? Why is she mean to me?"
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